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You couldn’t have a drive-by in Bellmore without instant police presence. The Godwins had kept the seedy underbelly hidden well for generations. They’d made sure Bellmore was the shining jewel of Illinois. In reality, it was only a prettier version of Chicago.
Kenya and I scrambled to our feet and hurried to hide our weapons. “What’s the story?” I asked her. She’d always been great at coming up with believable cover stories for moments like this. Moments where our reality bled into our cover lives.
“Feign complete ignorance. I know Mother. She covered her tracks well. They won’t be able to track the truck and it’s burning pretty good now. Prints are gone.”
“Fuck!” I cursed, slamming my palms against the wall. “She’s trying to kill us, Ken!”
“I know.” Kenya tugged me away from the door and pushed it shut. The sirens were so close they had to be just one street over. “Pretend you don’t know anything. That energy you have…all that anger and confusion? Keep it,” she said urgently.
I had to get my mind in the right space. I had to find comfort in my cover. Shit was starting to get under my skin, though.
From the window in Ken’s house, we could see the cops making their way down the street, talking to people who’d come outside of their houses in the cold to see what the commotion was. The entire block was lit up with flashing lights once the ambulance and fire trucks arrived. I was just hoping nobody told the cops that they’d heard or seen return fire. Then we’d have a lot of explaining to do.
When the two officers who were moving through the neighborhood got to Kenya and I, we went along with the plan of ignorance. One of the officers couldn’t stop staring at Kenya’s bruised and swollen face, though.
“Ma’am, how’d you get those bruises? If you don’t mind me asking.” He narrowed his hazel eyes and examined her face from his spot on the porch.
Of course we mind you asking, motherfucker.
“Car accident,” Ken answered quietly. “I’m blessed to even be alive right now.” Tears welled in her eyes and I found myself cheering her performance along in my head. I rubbed her back for emphasis, nodding solemnly.
“Amen,” I muttered, keeping my head low.
“I noticed your car here got some significant damage from bullets.” The other officer walked around Kenya’s shot-up car in the driveway, examining the bullet holes. I prayed she didn’t find one that came from our side.
I was about to answer when Bakari’s car pulled up and him and Maasai got out looking like giant redwoods. “Officers, good evening,” Maasai said politely, nodding in their direction.
“Good evening, Mr. Godwin.” The hazel-eyed officer smiled at Maasai. I already knew a quick correction was going to come from Bakari.
“Dr. Godwin,” he reminded the officer, flashing a smile.
“Right. Dr. Godwin.” His tight-lipped smile spoke to his annoyance. “Do you two live here as well?” the woman officer asked after completing her trip around Kenya’s vehicle.
“Nah. These two ladies are good friends of ours, though. When we heard what happened, we rushed over to make sure they were okay.” Maasai might have been the least problematic of the Godwin brothers but the man knew how to fall in line with a lie. He walked around the cops with the same self-assured energy as his little brother and stood beside Ken, draping a thickly muscled arm around her shoulders. I waited for her to gently pull away because she hated for anyone to touch her but she stayed put like she belonged there.
Bakari stood beside me, towering above my head by several inches. “We done with the questioning?” Bakari asked but the tone in his voice sounded like he was telling them.
The cop was about to respond when one more car pulled up and Hakim got out…eating a fucking hot pickle. All three Godwin brothers were on Ken’s porch forming a line between us and the police. “Everything good?” Hakim asked, his dark eyes darting between the officers.
“Yeah, everything is fine. We just had a few more questions to ask these ladies since this house got all of the gunfire, it seems.” Hazel eyes wouldn’t let up.
“Do you ladies have any enemies that would want to hurt you?”
“They’re Sinclairs,” Bakari chuckled. “Who the hell would want to hurt them? Their family owns most of the churches in Bellmore.”
“Exactly,” Maasai grunted.
“I think we’re done here. They’re shaken up and looks like y'all got a burning truck in the middle of the street to deal with instead of harassing people.” Hakim finished his statement and then took a bite from his pickle.
“I agree. Oh, and Officer Hamilton,” Bakari said, finding the most arrogant smile he had in his arsenal. “You might want to check on your insurance. I heard something from the ladies in billing. Now, I’m not your urologist or your surgeon, so luckily this won’t violate HIPPA, but take this advice from me.” His bedroom eyes swept the driveway like he was trying to be discreet. “You want to keep current on your insurance because trying to get the erectile dysfunction device without it is hell.”
My face got hot for the officer because…goddamn.
Bakari took a step back and gave a mock salute. The hazel-eyed officer cleared his throat and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from his uniform before nodding and dismissing us. We’d all seen his splotchy red cheeks, though.
“If you need them to give a report, you can reach out to us. We’ll make sure they get to the station. Other than that, have a nice night, officers.” Maasai offered a smile then escorted Kenya into the house.
One thing about those Godwin brothers? They were going to walk into a place like they owned it.
